"No French fleet,"
wrote the admiral in his diary, "nor any information about them: how
sorrowful this makes me, but I cannot help myself!" "I am, my dear Mr.
Marsden," he wrote to the Secretary of the Admiralty, "as completely
miserable as my greatest enemy could wish me; but I blame neither
fortune or my own judgment. Oh, General Brereton! General Brereton!"
To his friend Davison he revealed yet more frankly the bitterness of
his spirit, now that the last hope was dashed, and it was even
possible that the mis-step of going to Trinidad had caused him to
incur a further mistake, by leaving the allies in the West Indies.
"But for General Brereton's damned information, Nelson," he said, half
prophetically, "would have been, living or dead, the greatest man in
his profession that England ever saw. Now alas! I am nothing--perhaps
shall incur censure for misfortunes which may happen, and have
happened."

But if he himself were disappointed, and foreboded the discontent of
others, the greatness of what he had done was quickly apparent, and
received due recognition from thoughtful men. "Either the distances
between the different quarters of the globe are diminished," wrote Mr.
Elliot from Naples, "or you have extended the powers of human action.
After an unremitting cruise of two long years in the stormy Gulf of
Lyons, to have proceeded without going into port to Alexandria, from
Alexandria to the West Indies, from the West Indies back again to
Gibraltar; to have kept your ships afloat, your rigging standing, and
your crews in health and spirits--is an effort such as never was
realised in former times, nor, I doubt, will ever again be repeated by
any other admiral. You have protected us for two long years, and you
saved the West Indies by only a few days." Thus truly summarized, such
achievements are seen to possess claims to admiration, not to be
exceeded even by the glory of Trafalgar.

Although no French fleet was visible, as Nelson approached the
Straits, there were a half-dozen British ships-of-the-line, under the
command of his old friend Collingwood, blockading Cadiz. When Orde was
driven off that station by Villeneuve on the 9th of April, and retired
upon Brest, he had already sent in an application to be relieved from
a duty which he himself had sought, and had held for so short a time;
alleging a bundle of grievances which show clearly enough the
impracticable touchiness of the man. His request was at once granted.